


Save Your Last Dance

by gumpekulla



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Awkward Flirting, College Student Will Graham, F/M, Female Will Graham, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumpekulla/pseuds/gumpekulla
Summary: Mina Graham makes a charming new friend at a swanky function Alana dragged her to. It's a bit unexpected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Branching out! First published Hannigram fic, so please be kind. English isn't my first language so excuse typos and grammatical errors, they tend to slip through my fingers, so to speak.
> 
> Anyway, this is a oneshot and really just selfishness for my love of fem!Will. Also, the thought of Hannibal getting a hold of her at a young and impressionable age....manipulation ohoy!
> 
> But yes....enjoy! :)

o0o

Wilhelmina Graham shuffled awkwardly towards the end of the long table with all the fancy looking finger foods, empty champagne glass clutched in her sweaty hand. With a surprising amount of swift grace, she managed to exchange it for a new, full one from the silver tray of a waiter rushing past. She silently congratulated herself, before hurrying towards her goal: an abandoned corner with food, drink and no people. Perfect.

With a small plate stacked high with the few foods she could recognize (and that were within reach of her self-quarantined space), Mina settled in for an hour or two of reluctant people watching.

This had been an awful idea. Why did she let herself be persuaded?  _ Because no one says no to Alana with that shade of lipstick, and those heels,  _ she thought sourly, popping a whole stuffed cherry tomato into her mouth.  _ Creamy,  _ she observed, wrinkling her nose in consideration and swallowing. Out of reflex, she licked her lips for any stray stickiness and immediately went for another one.  _ Might be worth it for the food.  _ It sure beat the canned beans that was all that was left in her own cupboards at home.

“Enjoying the food, but not the company, madame?” an unexpected voice startled her, causing her to jump slightly and curse a startled “ _ Merde!” _ as she almost dropped her plate of food. Luckily, her drink stood safely on the table she was hiding by. “I beg your pardon, I did not mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

Mina glared up at the one who had snuck up on her, eyes going no further than the man’s chin, but taking him in nonetheless. His clothing was obvious in their fine quality and cut, making him stand out even among the socialites she’d spent the night maneuvering around. Older, sophisticated and European (she couldn’t place the accent, something Nordic or Slavic).  _ Handsome, _ a glance up at his face told her, though she quickly avoided a pair of interested dark eyes. She put down her plate of food and quickly grabbed her drink. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

“I’m fine,” she bit out, trying for a polite smile but probably failing. Manic Mina had never been gifted with any social graces. She saw his thin lips pull into a charming smile.

“When the company is lacking, I find myself better inclined to enjoy the food as well,” he said, sounding oddly amused as he reached out to take what looked like a bit of cucumber made into a bowl filled with stuffing and popping it into his mouth.  _ He even chews elegantly,  _ she thought bemusedly. She didn’t know how to respond to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. Bowing slightly, his smile turned crooked. “I must apologize once more, I seem to have misplaced my manners this evening. My name is Hannibal Lecter.”

She briefly caught his eye, feeling the press of social niceties and her father’s upbringing forcing her to make nice. “Mina Graham,” she replied, a bit stiff in her rusty manners. “Pleasure.”

He smiled, a notion she couldn’t help but think he was exaggerating. “Mina...a lovely name. Is it short for Wilhelmina, by any chance?”

Shifting anxiously, she tried to ignore the twinge in her feet as it would only add to her discomfort (though the heels helped with her short stature, she was only used enough to them to be able to walk without falling on her face). She took a large gulp of the champagne. “Yes, Bram Stoker. I’ve heard every lewd, corny Dracula joke you could imagine,” she drawled, her Louisiana twang seeping through in her annoyance. Ever since moving from New Orleans she’d tried to work it out of her speech, to make it more neutral, but she still slipped up. She’d warn him off from using any vampire related pick-up lines as well, but his kind of man was more likely to mock the lost country girl in a room like this. In a dark alley, she wouldn’t hesitate to cut him.

To her surprise, the man - Lecter - laughed. Well, it was more of a chuckle, yet more genuine than the smiles he’d been feeding her up until now. “Ah, you have vampires and I have elephants,” he commented to which she dared look up all the way to the tip of his nose.

“Carthage,” she acknowledged with a wry grin, remembering. It hadn’t crossed her mind upon his introduction, his strange name had suited him so. She decided, tentatively, that she might like him. A bit. And if Alana spotted her being social, it would put the other woman off her back for at least a month. She took another sip of her drink. “If you aren’t a great military commander, then what are you, Mr. Lecter?”

Shifting to prompt her flitting gaze to meet his again, he smiled lightly, and she was reluctantly charmed by the strange spark in his eyes. “Please, call me Hannibal. We are having a friendly conversation, are we not? There is no need to stand on ceremony, I think this room is full enough of people to do it in our stead.” She grinned at that, nodding her consent to his not so subtle request. She’d rather be Mina than Miss Graham, the latter would make her think her professors would come jumping out of the corners. “To answer your question: I am a doctor, a former surgeon, now most recently a psychiatrist here in Baltimore. And you, Mina?”

“A psychiatrist, I should’ve guessed,” she muttered, flushing at his enquiring stare. Shrugging, she attempted to explain. “You know how to follow my queues. Normally, people are put off by my, well--” she gestures vaguely towards her eyes and body, “--my general twitchiness. You didn’t offer your hand, you’ve kept your distance and refrained from overwhelming me. People don’t usually know how to do that, not unless they have prior experience.” Hannibal tipped his head to the side, eying her with growing interest. She fought down a blush, took a drink, and hurried to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m a student. Criminology.”

Seemingly willing to go along, Hannibal hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting. At what university, might I ask?”

Mina flushed, but braced herself. She wasn’t Alana Bloom, braving the expensive tuition costs of Johns Hopkins, but that didn’t make her lesser in any way. “Maryland College Park,” she admitted, jutting her chin out and meeting his eyes straight on for a full moment in subconscious defiance.

“Ah, I know of it. Their psychology programs are excellently ranked. I studied at Johns Hopkins myself, but have colleagues who speak fondly and indeed very well of the University of Maryland College Park. Are you going for your Master’s degree?”

Biting her lip, Mina shook her head. “I’m only on my Bachelor’s,” she admitted, and winced slightly at his raised eyebrows. She most likely lowered the average age of the room by a lot; Alana had only gotten them both invited here due to her new mentor wanting her to be introduced to these circles, for whatever reason. Mina suspected less savory intentions than mere cultural refinement, as Alana had stated, but had kept her mouth shut after the other woman had threatened to introduce her to him. She had enough lecherous old men to deal with, she didn’t need Alana’s too.

“One should not make assumptions, I have learned,” Hannibal sighed with an apologetic shrug. Indicating with his hand, he gave her an amused look and continued, “You seem to have finished your drink. May I get you another one? I find I am quite enjoying your company.”

Mina hadn’t even noticed that she’d already drained her second glass of champagne for the evening, but felt strangely reluctant to turn him down. Instead, she smiled shyly and nodded, cutting her eyes up to his for a moment before settling on his lips again, feeling cheeky as she remembered his startling greeting earlier. “Enjoying the company, but not the food, Doctor?”   

He grinned, showing off surprisingly sharp teeth for a flash of a moment, before he tsk’d in disapproval. “I thought we agreed on forgoing titles, dear Mina.”

The endearment was so unexpected it startled a giggle out of her, to which she blushed deeply in mortification. Conceding, she bent her head in an apologetic bow. “Sorry,  _ Hannibal _ .”

With a last smile, Hannibal left for the nearest server, plucking two glasses off a full tray and returning within moment. Mina had barely managed to spot Alana on the other side of the room talking to a group of people, before Hannibal moved into her line of vision and took up all her attention again. He handed her a glass and she nearly dropped it, feeling his fingers caress hers as she accepted it. Tingles went down her arm, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice the goose bumps it caused.

“Are you here alone tonight, Mina?” Hannibal asked, sipping his drink. Mina held her glass close to her face and had her free hand grip her elbow, arm resting across her stomach. She shook her head no, suddenly nervous again. Was he standing closer now?

“I’m with a friend. She’s a student too, but at Johns Hopkins. Psychology. She got invited by her mentor and I was the reluctant plus one--I mean, as a friend--a, a friendly plus one,” she babbled, feeling her cheeks heat up for the umpth time that evening. She suddenly felt more fourteen than twenty-two. 

For a moment, Hannibal seemed amused and a little smug. Well, it was something less than that; he was difficult to read, beyond the superficial tics he allowed to show. It was refreshing, and distracted her less from conversation, but also made each insight slightly unnerving. As if a storm could be brewing and she would be blind to see it coming. Refreshing, with her kind of insight, but slightly worrying in the way storms always are.

“I see,” Hannibal seemed to settle for, calming her a bit by not acknowledging her unfortunate babbling. “And are you enjoying your evening so far?”

After a fortifying sip of champagne - which, this being her third glass on a relatively empty stomach, was slowly going to her head - Mina thought it over for a moment. Surprised to find the answer to be yes, she titled her head and looked up at the point between his eyebrows. “Yes,” she said, smiling slightly. “Unlikely as it seemed to me an hour ago. Must be the food.” With that, she grinned, reached for her plate, and popped the nearest morsel into her mouth to chew it contently

“Cheeky,” Hannibal murmured, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in an appealing way that she forced herself to look away from. She focused on the knot of his tie instead. “And here I thought I had tempted you away from it with my company.”

_ Is this flirting? Are we flirting?, _ she thought with a slight hint of hysteria. It was mostly dulled by the alcohol, however, and she decided then and there that to heck with it--she could have fun, for once. Before she could overthink it, she took a few steps closer to him, and smiled. He’d gone momentarily still as she’d moved, but quickly relaxed. She took it as a good sign. “Must be my proximity to it.”  _ God, I did not just say that.  _

“Perhaps,” Hannibal murmured before reaching for her free hand and bowing, lifting it up to brush soft lips against her bare knuckles. She couldn’t suppress the shiver of delight taking over her, nor her wide-eyed look of surprise. His chuckle came in warm puffs of air, causing her skin to tingle as he lingered over her hand for a moment more before straightening up from his bow. He kept her hand in his, thumb gently stroking where he’d kissed. “Perhaps if I take you further away, out to the dancefloor, I might stand a chance against the Crostinis and stuffed tomatoes.”

A little bit breathless - a completely sober Mina would be ashamed at the Regency period level of swooning - she merely grinned a little in delight. “If your feet are up to the challenge, maybe. They better not mind being trod on, or you might have to give up hope and leave me to my food.”

Putting his glass away and setting hers down as well, he kept his hold of her one hand and began to gently lead her away from their solitary corner and out onto the dancefloor, where quite a few couples had already ventured out since they had started talking. “Oh, I am an excellent lead. I am sure you will have no trouble following where I guide you,” he replied, voice smooth and low, causing her to bite her lip at what his tone seemed to imply despite such innocuous words.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she breathed out, just as he spun her out and pulled her into a starting position: her hand in his, his hand on her waist and hers on his shoulder. He smirked down at her, eyes dark and for a moment, unbearably handsome.

“I shall take my chances, dear Mina.”

The previous song faded seamlessly into a new one, and with a wink, he swept them off.

 

o0o

**Author's Note:**

> Hannibal you smooth little shit.
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://gumpekulla.tumblr.com)!


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